


A Christmas Special

by TheCrazyGeek



Series: Xmas Minific Series 2014 [3]
Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-04 04:36:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2944577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCrazyGeek/pseuds/TheCrazyGeek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For my Tumblr wife - fuckyespetercapaldi :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Christmas Special

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RandallsRedTie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RandallsRedTie/gifts).



You’re snuggled up on a sofa in pyjamas, watching the Doctor Who Christmas special and relaxing against the rumbling chest of the man next to you. He’s been giggling for a while now. “See that?” He exclaims, pointing to the television where a scene is unfolding, “we had to shoot it four times because Nick kept cracking me up!”

Peter has been like this all the way through the episode, but you’ve never minded hearing about the behind the scenes exploits, even when it means you have zero chance of hearing any dialogue. He’s happy, laughing and holding you close on the sofa as you watch him tear about on screen.

"For someone who keeps saying he’s getting old, you run around a fair lot" you quip and are rewarded with a raise of one of his expressive eyebrows.

"Old?" He says and wriggles his fingers round your waist to make you laugh, "I’m only as old as the person I’m feelin’ remember." His hands feel rather good against your skin but you decide to retaliate by attacking the spots under his ribs that you know from long experience will make Peter laugh like nothing else.

"Wench!" He laughs and rolls on top of you, pinning your wrists down so the attack on his sensitive spots ceases. "Somebody is feelin’ playful I think" he’s slightly out of breath from laughing and he’s right there leaning over you—

—your kiss takes him off guard for a second before he relaxes into your lips and frees your hands up so you can wrap them round his back and pull him in close. Pulled tightly together, his body heat burns against you and he slides one hand up to cup the back of your head. “We’ll miss the end” he murmurs and kisses his way down your neck, across your shoulder and then down to your chest.

"We’ll catch it on iPlayer later" you reply - arching into his touch - and couldn’t care less about the antics on screen. Peter rumbles something that could be a laugh against your skin and pulls up your loose top so he can kiss and lick at your breasts. Fingers curled in his hair, you sigh in pure pleasure and just enjoy the feel of his fingers pinching lightly at your skin.

Peter is still moving lower and looks up briefly with a frankly _wicked_ grin before wrenching your pyjamas off and licking a long stripe from your thigh back up to your breast. “Fffffuuuck” you gasp out and he chuckles just before kissing you deeply and thoroughly.

“Bedroom?” he asks and you shake your head, not wanting to miss even the minute it would take to move to your bed. Peter is here, now, hot and right on top of you and there is no way you are letting him go anywhere. He seems to prefer this option as well, as he’s pulled his own pyjama trousers down and has settled back on top of you, his erection pressing against your hip.

He’s still kissing and biting softly on your neck while you shift underneath him so he’s pressed right up against your entrance. “Take me” you whisper and bite your lip as he thrusts into you with one single gliding movement.

Doesn’t matter how many times you do this, it always feels as exciting as the first time you had the great actor Peter Capaldi in your bed. He’s a gentle man but proved that first night that he is also an _exceptionally_ fast learner and had you crying out to the skies in a very short time, and then again even sooner. You grasp him tight and growl “fast, rough and dirty” and cry out as he picks up the pace and force of his thrusts instantly. He takes you with the energy and drive of a man half his age – gripping onto the sofa for leverage – and huffs short breaths in your ear.

You’re gripping his shoulders, his back, his hair – anything you can grab hold of while he pounds you into the cushions – he’s panting now, same speed as you as you feel the pleasure start to tighten and burn between your legs.

No words needed, he knows you’re coming from the way you suddenly clench around him and cry out softly. He doesn’t stop his pace, pushes into you, straining toward his own orgasm even while you and shudder and pulse all around his hard length. “That’s it, love” he moans as he feels your muscles throb against him, “come fer me” - and if obeying his order, you _do._

Somewhere, in the white heat of your orgasm, you hear him groan and feel him pulse inside you, coming in great spurts and burying his head into your shoulder as he comes deep and hard.

**

He’s drowsing against you, happy and warm and uninterested in the screen. This isn’t the first time you’ve missed half an episode of Doctor Who and you strongly suspect it won’t be the last


End file.
